I Want the Truth - Chris Riddell illustration 03
/ Sold out

1 pledge

Just Another Someone - Chris Riddell illustration 01
/ Sold out

1 pledge

Group Creative Writing Class
/ Sold out

2 pledges

Batch Release
/ Sold out

7 pledges

On the Existing State of Things - Chris Riddell illustration 23
/ Sold out

1 pledge

Every Day is Christmas - Chris Riddell illustration 12
/ Sold out

1 pledge

The Good Girl in the All-Terrain Boots - Chris Riddell illustration 11
/ Sold out

1 pledge

Individual Editorial Advice
/ Sold out

2 pledges

Christopher - Chris Riddell illustration 16
/ Sold out

1 pledge

Launch Party
/ Sold out

4 pledges

Special School Package
/ Sold out

Special Thanks
/ Sold out

2 pledges

Frontispiece
/ Sold out

An anthology on the subject of refugees, asylum seekers and migration focusing on the experiences of children and young people

Last year I published
A Country of Refuge
, an anthology of writings about asylum seekers. Thanks to all of you who
contributed to the Unbound campaign.

Many wonderful writers, including Sebastian Barry, William Boyd, Al
Kennedy, Hanif Kureishi, Marina Lewycka, Ruth Padel and Roma Tearne
contributed original stories, poems, memoir and essays. The aim was to use
the work of well known British and Irish writers to directly challenge the
negative press and generate more positive perspectives regarding asylum
seekers and migration. The end result exceeded all my expectations and
we’ve had a great response.

It’s become increasingly clear to me that it is the plight of vulnerable
children that really gets under our skin and compassion fosters change.
Many people are horrified by our government’s treatment of child refugees
and their heartless decision to deny help to thousands of lone asylum
seekers under the age of 15.

Building on the success of A Country of Refuge I want to publish
an anthology on the same subject - refugees, asylum seekers and migration -
but focusing on the experiences of children and young people. Vulnerable
young adults also deserve our empathy. The book will be aimed at child and
adult readers alike.

Unbound is again keen to help and our dream is that the book will be read
widely in schools, perhaps even on the national curriculum, in the hope
that the next generation will have a kinder response to refugees and asylum
seekers and better understand some of the reasons people are forced to flee
their native countries.

There are tales of home, and missing it; poems about the dangerous journeys
undertaken and life in the refugee camps; stories about prejudice, but also
stories of children’s fortitude, their dreams and aspirations.

The fate and vulnerability of refugee children and young adults continue to
be vital issues and the book is intended as a positive reminder of our
shared humanity.

I believe that we can change negative mindsets and encourage a more
supportive atmosphere but I need your help. Please pledge for A Country to Call Home to show your support for young refugees and
asylum seekers the world over.

Lucy Popescu is a writer, editor and critic with a background in human rights. She was director of English PEN’s Writers in Prison Committee from 1991 to 2006 and co-edited the PEN anthology, Another Sky in 2007, featuring the work of persecuted writers from around the world. The Good Tourist, her book about ethical travel and human rights, was published in 2008. She volunteers with Freedom from Torture (FFT) as a creative writing mentor working with survivors of torture so understands very well the problems faced by asylum seekers in this country and abroad. Lucy edited FFT’s most recent anthology, Body Maps, published in 2011 and Moving a Country by Jade Amoli-Jackson, a refugee writer, in 2013. In 2016 she published A Country of Refuge with Unbound.

I’ve chosen these two extracts to demonstrate that the plight of child and
young adult refugees is nothing new. Moniza Alvi’s ‘The Camp’ refers to the
massive refugee crisis after the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947.
The extract from Christine Pullein-Thompson’s Across the Frontier
is set just before the Romanian Revolution in 1989 and is about a young boy
who has to choose between living in without fear in Britain or remaining in
his native country to look after his fragile grandmother. Refugees suffer
terrible hardship when they are forced to leave their homes and are often
desperate to return as soon as the situation in their country has improved.

11 The Camp by Monza Alvi

A vast parody of a city.

Almost featureless.
Teeming, but not bustling.

Children climbed trees
to see where the camp ended.

Tents – and patchwork shelters
of sheet metal, rags and bamboo.

Her temporary home – precarious
yet somehow enduring.

Ludhiana, a lifetime away.
Lahore, just out of reach.

Ragged ocean.
Oh to sail swiftly to the other side!

Where would they end up? And when?
And with what?

From At the Time of Partition By Moniza alvi Bloodaxe Books (2013)

This is an extract from a book-length poem based on a family story set
at the time of the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947. Thousands
of people were killed in civil unrest and millions were displaced. My
grandmother made the crossing from Ludhiana in India to Lahore in the
newly created Pakistan, with five of her children.
Moniza Alvi

Extract from Across the Frontier by Christine Pullein-Thompson

‘I Want The Truth’

Ion had reached the border. He stood behind a long line of lorries. His own
country lay beyond. He could see wooded hills, the dim outline of
mountains, acres of yellow stubble, one-storey houses build out of mud
bricks; the long straight road to home. He felt like a moth beating against
a window trying to get into a lighted room. The ploughed land was being
raked by a slow moving peasant. The soldiers were in their watch towers.
They looked harmless enough, but were certainly ready to kill. He looked at
the lorries and knew that they were his only hope. If only he could get
inside one and conceal himself. But most of them were State-owned container
lorries. There was no way of getting inside them and no room underneath to
hide either. There were hardly any cars yet. It was too early for visitors
with the dew still wet on the grass. He sat down on the verge and waited.
The drivers chatted and smoked, waiting their turn. He could hear laughter
coming from the soldiers. Supposing they were the same ones as were there
yesterday? Supposing they recognised him?

The lorries moved on, leaving him alone on the verge. The grass was
blackened by petrol fumes and diesel oil. Only a hundred meters away a
small girl was watching a flock of geese. What would they do if they caught
him? The thought made him tremble. He must not think of it. He would not be
caught. There was a lorry parked near him now full of sacks. He could climb
inside and hide. The driver had disappeared in the direction of the
frontier, leaving the engine running. For a moment Ion’s legs refused to
move. Then he bounded across the road and clambered into the lorry. The
sacks were empty and smelt of maize. He pulled some over his head and lay
down, afraid to breathe. Presently the driver came back laughing. They were
all like that, Ion decided, always laughing because they felt so important
driving their big trucks, passing the slow-moving oxen, nearly running down
old ladies, hooting loudly all the time, frightening horses, leaving a
trail of petrol fumes behind them. The lorry was moving now. Ion curled up
tightly, his fists clenched so that the white of the knuckles showed. He
felt the lorry stop again. Obviously they were through the first barrier,
but still on the wrong side. The soldiers were quick. They laughed and made
cheerful remarks and then the lorry moved on and now the soldiers spoke
ion’s language.

Over half of the world’s refugees are children

Sunday, 25 June 2017

Thankyou to all who supported A Country of Refuge and have gone on to pledge for A Country to Call Home. It is much appreciated and I really hope we can reach the target in the next few weeks in order to be able to publish the book early next year, in time for Refugee Week 2018. It's a long process because I have to reach the target before I can formally commission the authors.